


Dr Sexy, Eat Your Heart Out

by noangelsinthegarrison



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Waiting Rooms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 14:10:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1188162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noangelsinthegarrison/pseuds/noangelsinthegarrison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean fucking hates the dentist. He knows it’s a cliché and (as his brother just loves to point out) he might not need to go as often if he didn’t eat quite so much pie but man, the whole place just gives him the creeps. So he’s really not in the mood, sitting in the dentist waiting room one sunny Thursday, to also have to deal with the most ridiculously hot guy he’s ever seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dr Sexy, Eat Your Heart Out

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [my tumblr](http://forgetmenotcas.tumblr.com/)

Dean fucking  _hates_  the dentist. He knows it’s a cliché and (as his brother just loves to point out) he might not need to go as often if he didn’t eat quite so much pie but man, the whole place just gives him the creeps. So he’s really not in the mood, sitting in the dentist waiting room one sunny Thursday, to also have to deal with the most ridiculously hot guy he’s ever seen.

No seriously, think Dr Sexy but with a better face and better hair and better basically  _everything_. He’s not even wearing cowboy boots and he still makes Dr Sexy look like some kind of amateur. Shit, now Dean’s thinking about Hot Guy in cowboy boots. Really not what he needs right now.

Dean coughs and shifts as subtly as he can in his seat. He closes his eyes briefly and takes a breath. When he finally looks up again, for a split second he thinks he sees a pair of bright blue eyes looking back at him. But then he blinks, and they’re gone. Dean might have even believed he’d imagined it, despite being pretty sure he doesn’t have the imagination for that colour blue, if it weren’t for the sudden dusting of pink along the man’s cheeks.

He’s doing a crossword, or at least that’s what Dean assumes he’s doing. He’s staring intently at the paper in his hands, an adorable little frown between his eyebrows and Dean’s trying  _really_ hard not to look but he’s pretty sure he keeps seeing flashes of blue in his periphery.

When he sees it again, Dean flicks his own gaze to meet it as fast as he can, feeling like a child trying to catch his own reflection looking in a different direction. When their eyes meet this time, there’s no mistaking the blush on Hot Guy’s face and Dean finds himself grinning like an idiot. Hot Guy smiles back, small and private, and the corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly.

Dean’s heart is beating ridiculously fast for the situation and he’s pretty sure this isn’t how he’s supposed to react to a smile from a complete stranger, but before he can say anything a voice echoes through the room, making Hot Guy startle as if he’d forgotten other people even existed.

“Mr Novak?” A nurse calls from the doorway, and Hot Guy jumps up as if caught doing something illicit. He follows the nurse with his head down and drops the paper into the wastepaper basket on the way out. He doesn’t look back at Dean.

Dean sighs and slumps back in his chair a little. He isn’t really sure why he feels quite so disappointed, it’s not like he actually planned to find romance at all, especially not at the friggin’  _dentist_  of all places. No, he’s been perfectly happy with indiscriminate flirting and meaningless hook-ups his whole life and he _really_ shouldn’t be feeling this down over a complete stranger. Who he didn’t even  _talk_  to by the way.

Dean stands quickly and rolls his shoulders. He’s frankly a little unsettled by the whole ridiculous situation. So what if this ‘Mr Novak’ was the hottest guy he’s ever seen? The guy’s probably really dull. And stupid. He bets he didn’t even finish that crossword. 

Dean smiles to himself and marches over to retrieve the paper. He flicks to the puzzles page. Then freezes. 

“Mr Winchester?” The nurse’s voice echoes through the room again and he notices that his jaw’s hanging open a little too late. He snaps it shut and blushes at her raised eyebrow.

The nurse is hot, Dean notices kind of half-heartedly. Any other day he’d have been flashing a charming smile and flirting his way to a gloriously meaningless one-night stand. But today he just coughs awkwardly.

“Uh yeah, one minute,” he says, and swipes a pen from the reception. He scribbles something down underneath the crossword and leaves it on Novak’s seat before he loses his nerve.

*

When Dean gets back to the waiting room (and no, he’s not going to talk about what went down in that dentist chair because he’s already trying hard to forget about it, thank you very much), his heart sinks. The paper’s still there on Novak’s seat.

Did he just not notice it? Or worse, choose to ignore it?

He walks over to the chair and picks up the paper. He stares at it, wondering if it would be really pathetic to keep Novak’s crossword. He runs a finger over the words that have been scribbled randomly into the squares. Words that definitely don’t fit and certainly aren’t correct.

‘ _FRECKLES_ ’ is written in capital letters down the centre of the puzzle, bolder than the rest and obviously retraced over and over again. The other squares were clearly more hastily written; ‘ _ohmyGOD_ ’ and ‘ _justtalktohim_ ’ and ‘ _ohgodhisEYES_ ’ squeezed into spaces they clearly don’t belong. 

Below it, in Dean’s own untidy scrawl, are the words ‘ _You could always talk to me over coffee?_ ’ with his number printed carefully underneath.

Dean sighs as he looks down at it, and he’s just stepping out onto the sidewalk, tucking the folded page into his jacket pocket (and don’t judge okay, it’s been a very stressful day) when he almost runs straight into someone.

He looks up and all he sees for a good few seconds, is blue.

“Hello,” Novak says with the same warm, private smile from before, “Sorry, I’m not very good at talking on the phone. I thought we could maybe just have coffee now?”

It’s only then that Dean notices the two cups in Novak’s hands, from the coffee shop just across the road by the look of it, and he’d probably be embarrassed about not noticing them before but he was a little bit distracted by Novak’s voice. He’s really,  _really_  trying not to imagine what it would sound like moaning his name. Or those damn blue eyes looking up at him, with his soft, dark hair against his sheets –

Dean blinks a little, now is definitely not the time for thoughts like that, and grins. A little thrill warms his chest when he sees Novak’s shoulders relax at the gesture.

“Sure,” Dean says, grin softening to a smile and heart racing as Novak holds out both coffees.

“I didn’t know how you take it, of course, so I got one white and one black. I figured we could always have another if we wanted to be more adventurous later.”

Dean laughs quietly and takes the black, careful to brush his fingertips over Novak’s as he does.

“Thanks,” he says, eyes meeting Novak’s again and brain frantically scrambling for something suave to say. “I’m Dean,” he settles for. Okay so maybe not  _suave_  exactly but Novak still looks up at him like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever heard.

“Castiel,” he replies and Dean still can’t look away from his eyes.

“Castiel?” Dean asks, finally looking away long enough to start them walking aimlessly down the street, “There’s got to be a story there.”

“Yes,” Castiel sighs, looking down at the ground with an embarrassed smile, “My parents were very religious. Castiel is the angel of Thursday.”

Dean huffs out an incredulous laugh and when Castiel looks back up at him, Dean gestures vaguely around them.  “That’s a pretty awesome coincidence,” he smiles and Castiel chuckles lowly.

Dean finds himself wanting to hear it again.

“I like it,” he says and Castiel’s eyes sparkle with something like wonder, “Beats calling you ‘Hot Guy’ anyway.”

Castiel blushes then, right up to his ears and down past the collar of his white shirt but he chuckles again too, a low rumble in his chest that wraps around Dean’s heart and seeps out along his veins.

“Funny,” he says, gravelly voice still sending little shivers up and down Dean’s spine, “I was calling you ‘Ridiculously Attractive Man’”

Dean throws his head back and laughs, a tingle shooting up his arm when Cas reaches out to guide him away from an unseen passerby.

“You know, Cas,” Dean says, and he doesn’t miss the happy look of surprise in Cas’s eyes at the shortened name, “Now I  _definitely_  like you more than Dr Sexy.”

Cas lets out a surprised snort and Dean can’t help but meet his eyes again.

“I think I may even have a pair of cowboy boots somewhere,” Cas says with sparkling eyes and Dean stops dead in the street and just  _stares_.

Cas stops too to look back at him and Dean is pretty sure he’s full on  _gaping_  at him.

“Dude, marry me,” he says and Cas’s quiet, delighted laughter is his new favourite sound.

“Maybe one day,” Cas answers, and Dean should be running for the hills  _but he’s not_ , “but I think we should stick to coffee for now.”

And Dean feels like something enormous is happening. Like this is a moment he’s going to want to remember for the rest of his life and it’s  _crazy_ when all they’re doing is standing in the middle of a crowded sidewalk; holding take-out cups of lukewarm coffee and grinning at each other like they’ve known each other all their lives.

Later, when it’s dark outside and Cas leans up to press a shy kiss against Dean’s cheek under a streetlight, Dean decides he really fucking  _loves_  the dentist.


End file.
